Galimathias
by LofeA
Summary: AU - How can a human being, the grace of evolution, the perfection of life, be so destructive. Why is this happening to us?
1. Capitulum I

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Chapter I**

Just a few more meters and a door separated him from salvation. A big hand collided with the wall right before him. Remus gave an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes.

„Where are you going?" With another sigh he opened them again. He turned his head and looked into the angry eyes of his friend.

„What do you care where and why and with whom I'm going?" His voice was tired. „Now, let me through...please." Sirius didn't move an inch, but what did he expect.

„Where are you going?" Shaking his head at him Remus once again closed his eyes and vanished. To reapear behind Sirius, just out of reach. He opened the door and stepped out of the flat.

„It won't take long, I'll be back in an hour or so."

„If you go now, you don't have to come back here." Sirius turned, his hands clenched into fists. The other only raised a brow.

„I'm afraid I have to. I haven't packed yet." Without looking back he went down the stairs.

---

It was cool outside, although it was a sunny october day. Remus resisted the urge to turn and look up to the window on the second floor. He knew Sirius would stand there, watching him walking down the street.

And he hated it. Hated to look in his friend's suspicious eyes every time he would go to meet someone he couldn't tell Sirius of. Hated to fight because of every simple thing he was doing or not doing. He just hated it.

Well, it was for a good purpose and in any case it was to late now. Considering how stubborn Sirius was and that his pride forbid him to ask for another chance it seemed he had to leave their shared flat. Or rather Sirius' flat he shared with Remus.

Perhaps he could live a few days at the Potter's and than find a place of his own. Some run-down cottage without flowing water for example.

He reached a dark, narrow side-street and hesitated for a moment. He looked down the street he was on. It was a mixed neighbourhood. The muggles living here knew about the wizards among them and ignored their strange behavior most of the time. But not only wizarding and non-wizarding folk was mixed, also the culteres. There were indian and chinese people, a few familiys from Germany and France, americans.

It was hard to leave this all behind, but his decision was made. He wasn't going to stay here with Sirius, it was better this way.

He turned. He would go a small distance and then he would disapparate. Well, it was a nice plan, even when it went black.

---

...Two, three, turn. One, two, three, turn. Sirius was pacing through the small kitchen. Still fuming he tried to realize what had just happend.

Almost an hour had passed since Remus had left. Any moment he would be back to pack his few belongings and leave again and this time forever.

„Damn." The loud exclamation of his thoughts went unheard. He kicked the kitchen table angrily, it scrapped over the floor and he did the only thing he could think of. He waited.

He didn't want to believe what seemed so obvious. Remus, intelligent, caring Remus, who always was afraid of the possibility of him hurting someone, simply couldn't be a Death Eater. It didn't make sense, but who else could be the spy. James spying on himself, very unlikely, and Peter was to dumb. He knew it was mean, but he just didn't believe him capable of living a double life.

But Remus could live with a secret. He has proven it many times. Too many times, Sirius would confront him when he came back to get his things. He would just grab his arm and pull up the sleeve and then he would see. Or not.

A loud tapping sound made him jump. It came from the window in Remus' room. A huge dark owl was impatiently scratching at the wooden frame. Sirius hesitated only for a second before he let it in. Immediately the owl streched out its leg with a rolled up parchment bound to it. Only one word was scribbled on it in black ink. _Lupin_.

Hastily he untied the black ribbon and let the owl fly out again. Sinking down on a nearby chair he examined it. A piece of parchment brought by an almost black owl, tied to its leg with a black ribbon, written in black ink. This had to be the sign he was waiting for.

No time was wasted anymore, instead he ripped it open and instantly threw it away. Green flames burned the letter until nothing was left.

He burried his head in his hands, overhelmed when realisation dawned on him. „Damn."

---

He didn't know how long he had been staring at the small water-puddle in a far corner of the room which wasn't getting bigger, although it dropped of the ceiling.

Slowly he turned onto his back. Piercing pain shot through his spine. He wasn't even bound anymore, they knew he was to weak to even try getting away.

He hadn't expected it to be like this. Hadn't expected it to be this different. He knew pain, had experienced it all his life. But this wasn't only physical pain, it was – humilitation. The worst of all.

„Twinkle, twinkle little pain", he said softly, „ in my groin and in my brain, down so low and up so high, will you live or will I die?" His whisper faided into nothingness.

„Quoting Westlake now, are you? Writing things onto the ceiling, too?"The sleek voice of his tormentor came from the door. Light steps brought him nearer to his protégé.

„But that was quite...gloomy. Don't you know something funny?"He could feel the warm breath at his ear, when he bend down close to him.

„Beat me up before you go-go -"He drew away abruptly with a small laugh.

„That, was poor, Lupin."

„- I don't want to miss it when you hit that high..."

„Ow, stop! Please, you don't want me doing things I might regret later." He blinked his eyes open. The water-puddle didn't get any bigger, perhaps there was a hole underneath.

„Well, back to business if you don't mind. What did you say you were working on? The project, I mean."He rested his lean body against the wall.

„I didn't...", Remus whispered.

He sighed and pushed himself of the wall. Slowly he made his way over to where the pitiful figure was huddled on the floor. „I know, but as much as I hate it, I will have to force an answer out of you."

„I won't speak."

„You're such a kill-joy."

---

Hesitatingly he approached the figure at the window his head hold in a humble bow. The robes rustled against dry skin as the Dark Lord turned to greet his servant.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?"

He looked up and met the gleeming red eyes of his master. "My Lord, the werewolf keeps being stubborn. I've tried everything I'm capable of, but he just won't speak. Didn't even lower his mental defences. If you'd just allow me to use silver, Master, I..."

He was silenced by an almost unnoticeable gesture. His master commanded him forwards and he obeyed, dreading and anticipating what might await him.

Two silver coins were pressed into his open palm and bony fingers closed it to a fist. Puzzled eyes flew up to be met with unhidden malignity.

"They have just the seize of his eyes."

**Author's Note:** Some things are only understandable, when you've read 'The Winner' by Donald E. Westlake. Oh, and the song metioned is 'Wake me up before you go-go' by Wham. But I think it's published in 1984 or 1985, so it's to late. Who cares?


	2. Kapitel 2

**Chapter II**

The only light in the stuffy room came from a small lamp hanging above the table.

Two men were sitting in an uncomfortable silence. The one in the corner was reading a thick volume trying his best to ignore the annoying ticking of the clock.

Dust was flying through the air, glittering in the light, drying their throats. It swam on the whiskey. _Aqua ardens_. Burnig water. Its scent mingling with pergament and ancient stone.

A scream.

A head snapped up, the head of the one with the book. He raised a brow, not confused simply asking a question that needed no words anymore.

A grin spread over the other's face showing his disgusting yellow teeth.

He stood and reached for his glass. He drained it with a big gulp, coughed and waited for him to rise. „You'll like this one."

Sirius immediatly flew to the door, when it knocked, not even wondering why it knocked as it could only be Remus – the traitor. Who had a key to the flat.

His steady hand gripped his wand, the other was reaching for the handle, but he stopped. This was the moment he had feared all the time. Every little second since he knew.

And there was nothing he could do but decide which spell he should use first after he would have opened the last barrier between them. Stupefy would do.

The door was thrown open, the wand raised, the damned word already on his lips.

„We don't have time to play now, Black"the newcomer said and moved the stick out of his face.

He was speechless, stupidly gaping at Severus Snape's trademark sneer. It wasn't real, but what else could he show to his arch-enemy. The terror that was branded into the last twisted piece of brain.

_Bloody fingers were clawing at the glistering red holes, ripping flesh and leaving crimson smears looking like demonic make-up. Fighting pain with pain._

Black seemed to get a grip of himself, at least enough to hiss a „You!" at him dripping with hate and disgust. But blood-stained screams kept him from hissing right back, from hurling his best hex at the man he detested.

„What are _you_ doing here?"

„We don't have time, you..."

„I have the time, Snivellus. So you'd better explain yourself quickly or I'll show you how I've-"

„They've got Lupin."

He expected him to be stunned, expected him to firstly look incredibly stupid for some minutes, secondly begin to stammer incoherent and ask even more stupid questions ( „Who?", „What?", „I don't understand...") and at last do the hero trip.

Well, Black decided to leave out the first two.

„Where is he now? And can you bring me to him?"

„He's with Malfoy, that is if he's still alive. It's to difficult to discribe the _way_, we have to apparate."He held out his right arm, cursing himself in his thoughts. Who was playing the hero now?

Black lifted his wandless hand, he hesitated and searched his face trying hard to find any trace of betrayel beneath the layers of times and tortures.

„If this is a trap, we are both going to die."

„No matter who set it up", he answered. „Now or never, Black. It's your friend."

„I don't trust you", Sirius said as he closed his hand around Snape's thin arm. _Me neither, my friend _-his eyes told - _me neither_.

Sirius followed him through the dark corridors. Through narrow passageways and gigantic halls, deeper and deeper into this horrible labrinth.

His mask was sliding over his too sensitive skin, he wanted to brush it away like an annoying fly. He always wondered how the Death Eater could fight and actually win even though they had to wear these things. Now he knew. He couldn't explain why he could see everything around him, but he did.

Half running, half walking they hurried forward. Dreamlike, surreal. It was memory and new. Fantastic and threatening. Graceful ornaments highlighted by the dancing flames decorated the walls.

But when Snape gave him the way, he could not stop all the tainted hours spent in his personal hell to burn themself into Sirius' brain.

So he saw the blood staining the elegant marble-stone, the screams curling around the columns like snakes, the eyes of thousands of misery peeking around the corner.

And Remus.

Suddenly it was there and over. He burst through the last door, alone but with Snape just a few meters away. Lucius was shot down and the liveless lump gathered into his arms. Too light, oh so light.

„Is he alive?"Snape asked, his eyes darted over the man, to his face and quickly away again. Sirius didn't answer. Of course he was alive, he had to. Good people didn't die, that wasn't how it goes.

He didn't think about anything. Neither about the blood that stained his favorit t-shirt nor about the rattling breath and definetly not about his friend dying in his arms.

They were running now, running for dear life. Just not their own.

A nurse came running through the corridor, frantically searching for a healer.

„Sir! Sir!"she was crying after him and at last he stopped and turned around. „Sir, you have to come, it's an emergency!"

So he ran back the way to the main hall, without taking his break and the good smoke he craved for the whole day.

He was a healer for a long time now, almost twelf years, when you counted the training, too. Well, he could say, he had seen a lot of things. But he still couldn't understand, why he had to see them.

It was beyond his comprehension how a human being, the grace of evolution, the perfection of life, could be so destructive. How was it possible that he had to look into burned out eye sockets, that he had to push a pipe deep down that shredded throat to make his patient taste sweet breath again. _Why is this happening to us._

The young nurse on the other side of this miserable creature gasped, his arm fell back onto the red sheet, when she stepped away. Horror and disgust painted on her round face.

He bent over to see, what could be so horrible for her to fail in her duty.

A tattoo. A small tattoo with much meaning to most of the world. Where was Gwenn, when you needed her. He couldn't expect a normal woman to treat a werewolf, could he?

„Gwenn, I need Gwenn here", he told her and turned away from her. She didn't move. How he despised her. „Now!"

She fled.

The worst was done anyway, he sighed to himself.

„I can't treat him."

„Why?"

„Why?" he asked himself. Slowly he washed out one of the numerous cuts in the heated flesh. „I won't be allowed to _waste_ our good remedies on a monster-"

„How dare you-"

„-but that doesn't mean, that I don't want to. You have to see Mister -?"

„Black."

„Well, Mr Black, I'm sorry, but I can't. I'd have to smuggle them out of the store-room and that is impossible."He looked up to the poor young man. So desperate and helpless.

„Is he your friend?"Black nodded. „I want to do this, you can't possibly understand how much I want to help him. But we are surrounded by stupid blind people, who just don't see what's really lying here. Not an opportunity to get rid of an problem, but an injured man. A dying man. Sorry."

The only sound that broke the silence in the small room was of the respirator. Up and down, up and down, over and over. Perhaps it would be better to just let him die quickly before he woke up.

Breathing would be painful, but he could do it mostly by himself. The potion to heal his lungs could be brewed outside the hospital, but for the eyes...

„What would I give to be invisible, just one time" he murmured to himself.

„Is that all you need?"Black's voice shocked him out of his thoughts.

„Yes."

„A cloak would do?"

„I'd say, hurry up."

„Sirius!" Lily came towards him, bobing Harry in her arms, and greeted him with a smile. Just until she really looked at him and saw the dirt and blood on his shirt.

„What happend?"

„Where's James? I need..."

„I'm here, Padfoot, what's up?"James Potter came into his living-room and was almost thrown to the floor when Sirius grabbed him.

„Where's the cloak?"

„What? Why do you... what happend to you?"

„Where is it!"

James left and returned after a few seconds. „Here, but what-"

„Later." He grabbed the invisibility cloak and turned to the fireplace. Th threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and stepped into it. He looked his gaze with James' willing him to understand,

„St Mungo's."And he vanished.

**Autor's note: **I'm not happy with it, sometimes I'm even ashamed to be the one who has written this, but this is chapter two. It sadly lacks some kind of inspiration, but I fear it doesn't have a lack of wrong punctuation, grammar in general, and vocabulary. Well, I haven't got the nerve to go over it again and again, because I don't know what to look for. So if there is someone out there who might be interested in some beta-reading...

**p.s. **Now, I should have thanked you for reviewing a long time ago. I've forgotten, sorry. I hope to get to the AU part, it's not at the moment. Well, some parts are unclear... hell, the whole chapter is messy! But that is, well it's written out of Sirius' view, with a few breaks I quite like the flowing change to Snape's view, which I missed whilst writting it, but it's mainly out of his view and he just doesn't know anything at the moment, so no explanations, and then he's confused and angry, I mean there's _Snape_ standing in his flat, and he's afraid. And for the rest it's just my messy writing style if you want to call it style. Translating pictures into words isn't one of my talents, it seems to me, so I have to improvise. Elmtree! You made my day. An emergency, that's exactly what it is. Thank you, to all of you.


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